It's a Mob Life
by HawthornWild27810
Summary: All Kagura had ever wanted was to murder her father. She spent her life planning it, thinking about it, and even dreaming about it. But in walks Sesshoumaru and all her carefully laid out plans blows up in her face...Damn that delectable bastard.


Long time no see; this is a little something-something that has been on my mind. It is alternative universe and yes, the world is aware of demons. Well, let's get on with it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Inu-Yasha.

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I, Kagura Onigumo, have very few wants in life; make the rent early was one of them. Buying those stunning red patent Steve Madden pumps was another. But what takes preeminent in my wants is murdering my father.

Now I'm not a psychopath. There is a very good reason behind my thirst for murder. It is perfectly justified. Really.

Now to explain this perfectly justified reason, I would have to tell you a story. It isn't really a complicated story. And it isn't an agreeable one either but it is my story. So it will have to do.

There once was a spider demon. His name is Naraku. He is also the most want criminal in the Northern hemisphere and most of Asia, but that's another tale. Naraku is what every vermin based demon strives to be. He is powerful, rich, young, (only about 253 years or so) and oh-so evil.

He rules the Southern Lands of the U.S. (which consist of Texas, New Mexico, Louisiana and most of Mexico.) He also heads one of the largest drug cartels known in the last 50 years.

As you know, one doesn't command any type of gang (big or small) on prayers and good deeds (Yeah, and pigs fly).

To be quite frank, Naraku is a murdering, thieving bastard that thrives on desperation and sick addictions. And the only reason that he isn't behind bars is because that slippery son of a bitch can't be connected with any of the crimes that he 'supposedly' (more like definitely!) committed and orchestrated.

I digress. The point is, Naraku is one sick asshole. If he tripped and beheaded himself in the process, it would be God's way of doing the world a favor. Unfortunately, God has never heard my prayers.

Naraku once loved my mother, or as close as love as that heartless demon can feel. My mother was a beautiful woman (and ignorant to my father's sins) who wanted a child very badly. She pleaded and begged Naraku to give her children. And eventually, he relented. Of course, later he changed his mind. Apparently, he didn't want to share the attentions of my mother. So he ordered me to be killed. I was only 2 months old.

My mother caught wind of this. And with Onigumo, his second in command, fled Naraku. Now Onigumo loved my mother as well and did everything he could to keep her happy. From what I was told, those few months were the happiest times of his life. However, Naraku eventually found us. His mentality is: 'If he couldn't have what was his, then they might as well die'.

My mom died trying to buy Onigumo and me time. She tried to distract Naraku by begging him to spare me. My father stood there with a straight face, taking in my mother's tears and pleas. After she finished crying, he shot her in the head.

Onigumo and I ran far and wide. I don't remember those terror filled months of living in motels and hitchhiking, but Onigumo told me how quiet I was. About how little I cried and how proud my mother would have been.

Eventually, we settled in New Hampshire. Onigumo loved the saying 'Live Free or Die' and decided that it was the most appropriate place to raise me.

My childhood wasn't filled with cartoons and loud birthday parties. It was filled with discipline and fear. From early on, I was trained on how to be as unassuming as possible and blend into the background. Upon entering a room, I had to spot any escape routes possible, 'Just in case,' he said. But spotting any of Naraku's minions was my most important lesson.

"It is a matter of survival." Onigumo said, "If you see them before they spot you, then you have a chance of getting far away."

Onigumo did all that he could to ensure my survival. While other kids spent their afternoons in parks, I spent them at the firing range. New Hampshire sure loves their firearms. And if anyone raised an eyebrow at the 5 year old holding a gun, one quick word with Onigumo and it was all settled.

He also did his best at developing my demon powers. Which might have been very difficult for a human, but this was Naraku's second in command we're talking here.

And as an extra precaution, he made me wear an amulet that suppressed my demon blood, so I looked human. I also 'became' mortal. No control over the winds (only in training could I remove the dreaded amulet), no flying, no heightened senses or healing, and no manipulation of the dead.

"Relying on your demon powers is weak. If you can deal with it as a 'human' then you'll be much stronger than most demons," Onigumo lectured.

It made sense, but it hurt. The amulet suffocated me. It felt like I was being held under water. I wanted to dance among the clouds. I craved to race across the skies with hawks. But those are wants that could get me discovered. And I could not risk that for a few moments of sweet freedom.

By the time I was 10, I could outshoot an Olympic champion and create a tornado that could transport most of New York to the 'Land of Oz'. By the time I was 15, I was truly a force to be reckoned with.

It would have been easy to grow up to be a psychotic killer. I had the blood, the means, and the training. It would have been all too easy to become a hate-filled wretched creature. Onigumo did his foremost at molding me into the weapon that would one day execute Naraku. The only problem was that he cared.

Whenever we came back from a hard day of training, he would take us to McDonald's for dinner because that was what I loved. Whenever we went to mall to buy clothes, he would ask me what color I wanted to wear (red, it's always been red). Whenever I was bullied, Onigumo would step in and saved the day. And at night when he tucked me in, he would tell me of all the fun adventures my mom, him and I shared in those few months of bliss.

It was those moments that enabled me to become someone whole.

I was truly happy. Sure, my life wasn't the ideal one and by no means was it easy, but I had a family and a home. To me, Onigumo was my father and Naraku was just the sap that contributed to my existence.

It all shattered when I was 16.

I remembered it. I remembered every detail of that terrible day. I remembered it because it kept me grounded in my goal. I remembered it because I sometimes dream of it. I remembered it because it made me realize how important it was that Naraku should be dead.

I was coming home from the DMV. I had passed! It was one of the few events that can bond me with the other kids at school. I could never talk about what happened on _Gossip Girl_ no more can they discuss the merits of a CZ-75b vs. a FN Herstal FNP-9 but passing your driving test was a universal teen subject.

I turned the corner onto my street and at once saw the crowd and the police cruisers. People were packed onto the streets, many craning their necks for a better spectacle, like hungry vultures. The joy in me crumbled into dry dust that almost choked me.

'Oh God, please let it be that someone ran over a cat.' I thought.

But looking at the crowd, that obviously wasn't the case. 'Oh God,' I prayed, 'Please, please let it be a big cat or a horse. Please God...'

I slowly made my over to the crowd, my mind still a whirlwind of hope and dread.

"Kagura!"

My head snapped up as my name was called. I was still praying, 'Please let it be Onigumo!'

When I saw who called me, my hope wilted. It was Grandpa Aoi, the landlord. He made his way over to me and enveloped me in a sudden embrace.

"Kagura! You're safe! Thank god! The police are going to find the men responsible; don't worry! They said it was a burglary gone wrong. They didn't expect Onigumo to be home at this time, they thought he went to work! The police said he went down fighting. It is just like Onigumo isn't it..." His voice caught on the last phrase.

At those words, the world around me died. I ripped myself out of his arms and ran for the building. I ducked under the glaring yellow police tape. I avoided large grappling hands and darted up the stairs. I didn't hear the cries for me to stop or the shouting of angry policemen. I couldn't hear anything over the loud pounding of my heart.

'It can't be,' I thought. 'It can't be!'

I burst into our apartment and stopped dead. Around me, men and women in blue uniforms stopped working and stared at me. I saw none of that. All I saw was red.

My eyes took in the crimson arced sprays on the walls. The destroyed chairs, the blood-soaked floor, my broken home; I took it all in. And what my questing eyes at last saw were the mangled remains of my guardian. There was a sheet all but covering his hand, but that didn't disguise his identity. I recognized that hand anywhere. It was the hand that held mine when no else did. The one that was big and warm when he patted my head. The one that protected me and the one that used to tuck me in.

_Gone_. He really was gone.

I felt my world perish in a blazing wave of fire. My body felt numb. Pain ran jaggered in my heart.

It was all gone.

It seemed like I stood there for a lifetime before Grandpa Aoi caught up to me and lead me away from the scene with knotty hands. I didn't feel it. He told me I could stay with him until my other relatives came. I didn't hear him.

All I registered was a small comment a passing detective made. "It's too violent to be a simple burglary gone badly. And his left hand's pinky is missing; was it taken as a trophy? We could be dealing with a serial killer."

My mind caught that remark and seared it into my memory.

Later, after I was placed in Grandpa Aoi's guest room, I wrapped my mind around what that detective said.

It couldn't have been a burglary. We lived on the fourth floor; any thief worth his salt would have gone for one of the apartments in the lower floors. Easier access and easier to escape. My mind whirled. Left pinky missing? Why did that sound familiar? I wracked my brain. It was hard to think through the grief that gripped me but I couldn't mope around. I was taught better than that.

Tears surged to my eyes at the mention of his name, even if it was mentally. I quickly blinked them back. No time for this! Think!

The left pinky was taken as a trophy? Trophy! Suddenly, everything clicked.

Kageromaru and Juromaru were here.

Unbidden Onigumo's voice flowed into my mind, "Kageromaru and Juromaru are two of Naraku's favorite assassins. Ruthless and extremely dangerous. They are prided on their speed. Most of the time, their victims don't see it coming, but it doesn't mean that they are merciful. Often the deaths are quick because they are consumed by their lust to kill. Especially Juromaru, he is the most unpredictable one. He collects his marks' pinkies and wears them as a necklace. They are his most prized possessions. His trophies."

They were here. Naraku's minions were here. But we were so far from his reach! My brow furrowed. There is something more to this. I need to go back to the scene and take a closer look. My heart lurched at the thought, but it had to be done.

I made my way to door and was about to open it when I heard Grandpa Aoi's conversation. The warmth drained out of me.

He was on the phone. "Yes, I have the girl," rasped the grainy voice. "When are you coming to get her..? Right now. I see. Now about the money..."

My stomach dropped to floor. That rat! He sold us out! My fist clenched and I inched to sink my claws into that rotten double-crossed face of his. Oh God, I wanted to make him pay. My hand inched closer to the doorknob.

Once again, Onigumo's voice flooded into my head, "Don't let emotions consume you! You need to approach all situations objectively. If you can't do so then you might as well give the enemy your sword and bow your head."

I jerked back away from the door. 'Don't be a fool', I admonished myself. I needed to do something quickly. If Kageromaru and Juromaru get here, I'm as good as dead. I need to escape.

I looked around the room. Damn, no windows. Guess that slime ball isn't a complete idiot but he has no idea who he's keeping. I need to get to another room. There is no way out of it; I have to face that miserable old bat.

I marched to the door and wrenched it opened, just as the old man hung up the phone. He turned around in surprise. He might have seen something in my face (murdering rage maybe?) because his eyes widened and a hit of fear seeped in. This is no good, I'm about to give myself away.

I took a calming breath and schooled my features into what hopefully looked like remorse and not the gut wrenching anger that engulfs me.

"I'm sorry, Grandpa Aoi. I don't seem to be in control of my emotions right now. Did I surprise you?"

He blinked. And quickly smiled, "Oh, no worries child! Of course you would be a little unbalanced right now. With this horrible tragedy and all. Please, what can I do for you?"

I smiled slightly. In my head, his face exploded. "I would like to take a shower. They always calm me down and I can really use one right now."

"Oh, of course, of course! Come with me. Let me get you some old clothes and a towel."

My arms were laden with old musky clothes that smell of moth balls and a faded blue towel. I tipped my head in thanks and headed for the bathroom he indicated. God, I hope I was right about the bathroom.

As soon as I locked the door, my eyes searched for a window. And thank god, there was one! It was small, located above the toilet and across the shower. It was a little over a foot-and-a-half by a foot but I could manage it. I have to.

I dumped the clothes and towel on the floor. I then turned on the shower. The noise from it should muffle any noise I'll make. I need to escape quickly. The phone call was over 5 minutes ago. The nearest hotel was only a few miles over, they can't be farther than 10 minutes away then. I don't have much time left.

I made for the window quickly and thanked God that it was unlatched. I looked down and made another mental thanks. Grandpa Aoi lived on the ground level. (Probably because his rotting old bones didn't want to make the climb.) Standing on the back of the toilet, I raised my right leg and bent it so that it hooked onto the window frame. Bracing my hands on the window lifted my other leg and joined it with my right. I was almost out! I was so intent on escaping that the knocking on the door almost made me cry out in alarm.

"Kagura? Are you alright in there?" cried out Grandpa Aoi.

Breathing heavily, I called back, "Oh, I'm fine. Just trying to forget today's traumas!"

'Not on your life! You depraved old prune!', I seethed in my head.

"Oh I see, you poor child! Take all the time you need!"

"Thank you!" I said between my clenched teeth.

I held my breath until I heard him shuffle away from the door. With a sharper mind on my surroundings (forgetting about listening for that old bag was such a rookie mistake), I eased my body out of the window and into the alley behind my building. I shut the window quietly and latched it.

Yes! I'm out! But I held back myself from celebrating too soon. Kageromaru and Juromaru are close by and I need to elude them completely before I can even think of relaxing.

Quickly formulating a plan of action in my head, I untied my bun and let my hair fall to my shoulders. Hopefully it would obscure my features and help me blend in with other teenagers of the neighborhood. And just as I thought that, a group of five kids from my school walked by. I quickly caught up to them and looped my arms around the blonde one that lagged a bit from the rest of group.

Her head whipped around so fast, her ponytail almost whiplashed me. Her eyes narrowed as they settled on my face and then drifted to our linked arms. I ransacked my brain for her name.

No doubt she was forming a scathing remark that would draw notice to us. That was the last thing I wanted.

Rei! Her name was Rei! She was a bitch and dumb as a pole. She and I had nothing in common except for Biology class (where she tries to cheats off me. Fat load of good that would do her, I'm failing that course.). But then I remembered my universal teenage subject.

"I passed my driving test." I croaked. The words tasted like dirt now that Onigumo was gone.

Rei's eyes widened and then narrowed with envy. Everyone knows that Rei failed her driving test. Twice.

"How'd you pass?" she sneered.

"I flirted with the DMV guy..." Of course I didn't but Rei latched onto it like Pooh onto a honey pot (with crazied gusto).

"Really?" her voice was incredulous.

"Yes," I insisted. "He was a dork, so I guess he was _so_ enchanted that he stamped pass on my papers" I said dryly. I was only paying half-an ear to Rei (which is one ear more than she usually gets) and strained my senses to catch squealing tires or forceful footsteps.

I fed her more lies about DMV agents loving to hear sexual innuendos involving a muffler, an aardvark, and clams, all the while keeping an eye for psychotic demons out for my blood. At last, I reached the intersection across the park and made my excuses with Rei.

She thanked me half-heartily for the pointers, all while turning her pert nose up so that anyone watching would know that she was only barely stomaching my presence. God she was such a bitch.

But that wasn't important. I crossed the intersection and forced myself not to run into the park. Bystanders remember people running into the park more than those who walk in as calmly as they may (even if they were anything but calm inside).

Walking with intent, I ignored the laughing children and the watchful smiling parents. It was too painful to acknowledge them, at how they can laugh and smile with such delight while my life lay in tatters.

Finally, I reached the God-Tree, with its monstrous trunk and branches that seem to tickle the clouds. It was our secret meet-up place when there would be trouble. 'Not anymore', I thought.

Tears welled up and I dropped to my knees. Using my hands, I dug at the base of the tree. The tears came faster and faster, rushing up like a geyser. My eyes were blurred and I couldn't see where my hands were. Then my hands hit a sack.

With patience I didn't know I possessed, I extracted the bag and filled the hole with dirt again. I got up and walked quickly out of the park, the sack clutched tightly in my hands.

The sack held all that I needed to disappear. Money, Passport, SSI card and an AMT Backup 9mm, all blank but had the necessary stamps and signatures (the gun is just a precaution. I hope). I had enough 'legalized' documents to make a fortune, if I sold them. God knows it cost a small fortune to get these papers in the first place.

By the time I reached the Bus Terminal, the sun was setting, bleeding red across the horizon, as if the day was dying defeated by night's greed to conquer the sky. I bought a ticket to the farthest away city that I could afford. Ignoring all the bewildered looks at my tear stained face, dirtied hands, and matted hair, I sat down in the bus and tried to relax. It was an impossible task.

As the bus pulled away from the station, I finally let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

Setting the sack next to me, I opened it. I took the gun out first and tucked it into the folds of my sweatshirt. Next I counted the money I had, and tucked half of that into my pants pockets. The other half I slipped into my boots.

I took out the papers next and got to work. I had to create a whole new identity before the bus arrived at its destination.

As I settled myself for this task, something glossy caught my eye. My heart froze and then jerked up to my throat. With a trembling hand I pulled out a 2 x 6 photo strip of Onigumo and me. We had taken it at a photo booth after I managed to get the drop on him during training.

Smiling faces looked up to me. My thumb traced the grin of my adoptive father.

His voice crept into my head again, 'Get rid of it! You can't have anything that might tie you to your previous life!'

My fingers threaten to ripe the strip to pieces when I decided to keep it instead. It was all I had left of this life. I want to keep one memory. I can even imagine the angry huffs Onigumo would make if I kept the photos. With a watery smile, I slipped the photos into my breast pocket of my undershirt.

With one last look at New Hampshire, I turned to the papers I held in my hands. And where it says my last name, I filled in 'Onigumo'. It was my last tribute to the father in my heart and not of my blood.

As you can see, Naraku's death sentence is truly justified. That madman destroys lives and celebrates greed and wrath. I'm doing a public service. Really.

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Well? Comments? Questions?


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